Today I went to the Gym
Because I was terrified of the alternative: sitting in my room and crying. My eyes fucking hurt. Everyone keeps asking me if I’m getting any sleep because I have these huge bags under my eyes. But maybe that’s just because for the past two nights I’ve cried till 3 or 4 in the morning. All my classes start by 8am and I am grateful because class is the only place I can muster the will to shut it out.
Today I ran 3.67 miles. It might not be a lot to you if you’re sporty but it was a feat to me. I wasn’t going to go at first and then I was looking through my phone and it was full of texts from him and I just had to escape somehow.
I wasn’t even fueled by anger. Somehow I’m not angry at all, I’m just really really hurt and betrayed. I hate working out, I hate treadmills, I hate weights, but if it will help me zone out for a bit then I’m game.
My Mom must have sent me a million texts in the middle of the night. It was really one really long text that broke into about five texts, but a lot of the things she said made sense, and I kept reading it over and over today.
I’ve tried really really hard not to think about him, or about anything related to him, but he keeps popping up in my head. All his messages are still there. My journals are full of entries about us, things we did, people we knew, places we went, fights we had. I don’t want to rip my journals but I also can’t write knowing he’s lurking only a few pages away. I’m avoiding all sorts of things. Couples, anything even vaguely related to or mentioning romance, love songs, etc. I can’t even go watch any films to take my mind off things because most movies usually involve a romantic subplot between the lead characters. Anything remotely related to sex reminds me strongly of him so I’m pretty much running from all external stimuli.
One thing I am being cautious not to do is eat. Eating certain things helps me forget momentarily. Eating was my coping mechanism when he broke up with me last year. I sat in my room, I cried, and I ate. I cried until I was exhausted, I fell asleep, I woke up desperately sad so I ate and watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy over and over again, which incidentally is one of his (and my) favourite books/movies.
My Mom called to see if I was okay. I’m not but I’m not as depressed as I was yesterday. I hate that my friends go to schools in different states. I need an actual hug. I’m horribly homesick. But like I told Mellowyel yesterday, part of my depression is that I feel like my home has been stolen from me. When I think of Abuja, I think of him. I remember the smells, the sounds, and I remember his voice, his habits, everything from when I belonged to him. After I left for school my Mom moved so he was my last link to everything the way it was before.
Now I feel like nothing will ever be the same, and it hurts. America is many things, but it isn’t and will never be my home. Abuja is home to me and it feels like my last sacred place has been defiled.